Famous Stories Every Child Should Know | Page 8

indeed!" said Schwartz; "do you suppose we've nothing to do
with our bread but to give it to such red-nosed fellows as you?"
"Why don't you sell your feather?" said Hans, sneeringly. "Out with
you!"
"A little bit," said the old gentleman.
"Be off!" said Schwartz.
"Pray, gentlemen--"
"Off, and be hanged!" cried Hans, seizing him by the collar. But he had
no sooner touched the old gentleman's collar, than away he went after
the rolling-pin, spinning round and round, till he fell into the corner on
the top of it. Then Schwartz was very angry, and ran at the old
gentleman to turn him out; but he also had hardly touched him, when
away he went after Hans and the rolling-pin, and hit his head against
the wall as he tumbled into the corner. And so there they lay, all three.
Then the old gentleman spun himself round with velocity in the
opposite direction; continued to spin until his long cloak was all wound
neatly about him; clapped his cap on his head, very much on one side
(for it could not stand upright without going through the ceiling), gave
an additional twist to his corkscrew moustaches, and replied with
perfect coolness: "Gentlemen, I wish you a very good morning. At
twelve o'clock to-night I'll call again; after such a refusal of hospitality
as I have just experienced, you will not be surprised if that visit is the
last I ever pay you."
"If ever I catch you here again," muttered Schwartz, coming half
frightened out of his corner--but, before he could finish his sentence,
the old gentleman had shut the house door behind him with a great
bang: and there drove past the window, at the same instant, a wreath of
ragged cloud, that whirled and rolled away down the valley in all
manner of shapes; turning over and over in the air, and melting away at
last in a gush of rain.

"A very pretty business, indeed, Mr. Gluck!" said Schwartz. "Dish the
mutton, sir. If ever I catch you at such a trick again--bless me, why, the
mutton's been cut!"
"You promised me one slice, brother, you know," said Gluck.
"Oh! and you were cutting it hot, I suppose, and going to catch all the
gravy. It'll be long before I promise you such a thing again. Leave the
room, sir; and have the kindness to wait in the coal cellar till I call
you."
Gluck left the room melancholy enough. The brothers ate as much
mutton as they could, locked the rest in the cupboard and proceeded to
get very drunk after dinner.
Such a night as it was! Howling wind, and rushing rain, without
intermission. The brothers had just sense enough left to put up all the
shutters, and double bar the door, before they went to bed. They usually
slept in the same room. As the clock struck twelve, they were both
awakened by a tremendous crash. Their door burst open with a violence
that shook the house from top to bottom.
"What's that?" cried Schwartz, starting up in his bed.
"Only I," said the little gentleman.
The two brothers sat up on their bolster, and stared into the darkness.
The room was full of water, and by a misty moonbeam, which found its
way through a hole in the shutter, they could see in the midst of it an
enormous foam globe, spinning round, and bobbing up and down like a
cork, on which, as on a most luxurious cushion, reclined the little old
gentleman, cap and all. There was plenty of room for it now, for the
roof was off.
"Sorry to incommode you," said their visitor, ironically. "I'm afraid
your beds are dampish; perhaps you had better go to your brother's
room: I've left the ceiling on, there."

They required no second admonition, but rushed into Gluck's room, wet
through, and in an agony of terror.
"You'll find my card on the kitchen table," the old gentleman called
after them. "Remember the last visit."
"Pray Heaven it may!" said Schwartz, shuddering. And the foam globe
disappeared.
Dawn came at last and the two brothers looked out of Gluck's little
window in the morning. The Treasure Valley was one mass of ruin and
desolation. The inundation had swept away trees, crops, and cattle, and
left in their stead a waste of red sand and gray mud. The two brothers
crept shivering and horror-struck into the kitchen. The water had gutted
the whole first floor; corn, money, almost every movable thing, had
been swept away and there was left only a small white card on the
kitchen table. On it, in large, breezy, long-legged letters, were engraved
the words: _South-West Wind, Esquire_.
II.--OF THE PROCEEDINGS OF THE THREE BROTHERS AFTER
THE VISIT OF SOUTHWEST